


That One Time Cisco Ramon Actually Got Harrison "Harry" Wells to Get Some Goddamn Sleep

by gipnib



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: A 'Lil Bit of Emotions, Banter, Ficlet, Fluff and Humor, Lab antics, M/M, Pre-Slash, Reluctant Lab Buddies, set in season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 19:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gipnib/pseuds/gipnib
Summary: And here Cisco was, thinking that Harry was some grouchy deity incapable of sleeping.





	That One Time Cisco Ramon Actually Got Harrison "Harry" Wells to Get Some Goddamn Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Something quick I wrote at 2 AM a couple weeks ago for this ship of mine that keeps persisting. I hope you like it!

“Cisco,” Harry growled. “With all due respect, shut up.” Even with all of the annoyance seeping into his tone, Harry didn’t deign to glance away from the board he’d been scrawling his messy equations upon.

Cisco raised an eyebrow and didn’t stop tapping his pen against his currently dysfunctional molecular stabilizer.

In Harry’s defense, the guy looked like he hadn’t slept for a week, all eyebags and greasy hair.

Unfortunately for Harry, Cisco had already deemed his own defense of ‘I’m bored’ superior. “Listen here, Mickey Goodwill.” He leaned forward slightly, holding his pen up for emphasis as he said: “My lab. My rules. I’ll talk as much as I want.”

“Your lab, my ingenuity.” Harry tossed a disinterested glance over his shoulder. “Equal say is the very least that I’m owed. I’m sure that even this Earth’s _terrible_ legal system would rule that.”

“You’re wearing the face of a dead man and we’re running a vigilante operation out of a failed lab,” Cisco scoffed. “We can’t even _pretend_ to know the legal implications of all of this. But!” He flicked his pen in the air and stood abruptly. “I’m digressing. Lemme talk.” Harry didn’t respond, returning to his equations, marker squeaking across the board.

“Seriously,” Cisco continued, “think about this for a second. We’ve already observed the past. That means that it’s a cemented timeline - or, well, a universe, right? Then, in accordance to the parallel universe theory, any change that we make to the past won’t _actually_ be made to the past. We’ll be creating a new universe with the change. Whatever past we change is just an imitation. A slate that we write on, see? Not the original thing.”

Cisco seated himself on the table that he’d been working on, continuing to talk to the back of Harry’s head as he delicately moved the soldering iron away from his jeans. (The little burn scars littering his arms had taught him to be careful with the hot tip of the iron.) “So what happens when Barry leaves a timeline to time-travel to a different universe? Is he just gone for good from the entire timeline?” He left the question hang in the air until Harry got fed up with the expectant silence and heaved a sigh, the squeak of his marker pausing.

“Are you done?”

“ _Hell_ no. I haven’t had someone to talk to about this since Iris got Caitlin tipsy.”

“Listen, Ramon,” Harry finally turned to face him, “if you’re _so_ interested in this, why don’t you try to _vibe_ if the parallel universe theory is legitimate and leave me in _peace_?!” Harry set his dry-erase marker down on the lip on the writing board with the loud clack of plastic on metal.

Cisco grinned and pointed his pen at Harry. “Now _there’s_ the discussion that I was looking for! Here’s the dilemma. The piece de resistance. The glitch in the matrix. The-”

“I _get_ it, Ramon,” Harry growled, scowling and crossing his arms. “Now let me repeat myself, for the last time. With. All. Due. Respect. _Shut up._ ”

Cisco held up his hands, sliding off the desk. Harry was most definitely annoyed, but Cisco was bored and knew that he could push him a bit further yet. “All ‘m saying,” he said, strolling over to the board Harry was writing on, “is that we gotta think about this stuff, man.”

The glower that Harry directed at him was absolutely exhausted. An unexpected tinge of pity pinged in Cisco’s chest and he reluctantly switched gears. “Fine. Fine! Be that way. But if you’re not going to listen to me, and you aren’t going to be solving that anytime soon-” he motioned at Harry’s writing board, “- you might as well sleep. I mean, I don’t think either of us knows what time it even is.”

Harry went to look at his watch and Cisco, still armed with his pen, threw the writing utensil at him, the chewed-on cap colliding with the oil smear on the shoulder of Harry’s shirt. “Nope,” Cisco said, holding up a finger. “C’mon. Try it. Tell me what time you think it is.”

Harry’s lips thinned and he glared. Cisco waited five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One. Then he turned to the computer, which had long since defaulted to its screensaver, and wiggled the mouse. The screen turned on and Cisco looked to the bottom right corner of the screen, grimacing as he saw the time.

“4:00 AM,” he said, faintly disbelieving. Damn. Harry seemed surprised too, despite the expression of disinterest that he was faking. That drew Cisco to a decision. He clapped twice, drawing Harry’s attention to him, and tapped his bare left wrist. He didn’t have a watch but the motion was virtually multi-universal anyway.

“If you think it’s late, then go.” Harry turned back to the board, reaching for his dry-erase marker.

Cisco internally debated the merits of breaching Harry’s marker to Earth-15.

Pros: Harry would have to listen to him. Some dystopian Earth-15 cockroach would get a marker for Christmas.

Cons: That was going a bit far. Also, the marker was technically Cisco's - Harry was just borrowing it.

“Look,” Cisco said, as the marker began squeaking over the board again, “get some sleep, dude. I legit wouldn’t be able to _guess_ the last time that you slept.”

Harry didn’t seem inclined to acknowledge him.

Cisco sighed. It was too late for this crap. “Seriously, I’m gonna go deep here, if you don’t gimme an answer.” Harry didn’t and, after an uncomfortable pause, Cisco went obligingly deep.

“I want you to be okay,” he said, picking his words with careful deliberation.

Harry’s marker-squeaking stuttered almost imperceptibly. Ha. The fool had doubted him. Cisco would have him know, he was perfectly capable of going emotional on Harry’s ass.

“I know that Jessie’s really weighing on your mind, and I know that I’m not really able to get in your head and tell you what to do, but I know that you could use some sleep. You’ll think better, and maybe feel better. I’m not going to fight you anymore on this, but it’s… it’s something you gotta think about. I’m packing up.” With that, Cisco returned to the desk he’d been working at, lifting his jacket off the chair and slipping it on over his T-shirt. Harry’s marker didn’t pause in its squeaking until he was almost out of the room, but Cisco pretended that he didn’t hear it when it did.

The next morning, when Cisco had returned to the lab, he mentally noted three things.

  1. The dark eyebags beneath Harry’s eyes were less prominent.
  2. He’d finally changed out of his oil-stained shirt.
  3. He didn’t look like he’d consumed a lethal dosage of caffeine and was just waiting for death to greet him.



Cisco smiled to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! If you did, please remember: I'm a slut for kudos and comments, end of story. Constructive criticism is welcome, so long as you keep it respectful!


End file.
